Hydra's First Soldier
by ZombieKolaAteTheGiraffe
Summary: A young, 1940's woman escapes from Hydra's testing facility after being experimented on. Presumed dead, she wakes up fifty years later with the help of Howard Stark, taking shelter with his family. It follows her journey from waking up in 1990, through 'Iron man', 'Captain America', 'Thor' and 'Avengers'. It's kinda jumpy until 2009. No pairings yet, but NOT slash.
1. Chapter 1

**This is my first fanfic, dunno how good it is. It is pretty much just following the life of one of Hydra's first super-enhanced soldiers. It's jumpy until 2009, where it follows the plot of Iron Man. Don't really know how it's going to turn out yet. **

**1941**

I was stood on the cliff top, feeling the blood matted in my hair, dripping down my bruised arm. The blood snaked in my hair came from the very obvious gash imbedded into my head. The blood trickling down my arm, however, came from a number of different cuts lacerating my arms.

The night was eerily calm, no aeroplanes or attacks in sight.

The wind was strong in my hair, pushing it back with invisible fingers, the salt water hitting my nose and making my eyes water. The sun had set long ago, overridden by the crippling darkness, the stars nowhere in sight. Even they were too afraid to show themselves.

I could hear the footsteps behind me, the figure saying no words, simply stopping to look at me, waiting for what I would do. I wanted to turn around, to look at the person head on, face them and fight. The sound of an air raid sounded in the distance, signalling for everyone to get somewhere safe and the man shifted his weight, dirt crunching softly beneath his boots.

He knew, if I were to go now, nobody would notice the difference, simply assuming it was the war. This realisation is what drove me to take a step forward.

The man's boots slipped on the dirt, attempting to catch me. I felt his fingers slip through my tattered shirt, suspending me in mid-air for a breath, before it vanished.

The ground rose up to meet me with terrifying velocity.

My heart stuttered, jumping into my throat, before giving out.

I was simply a dead-(wo)man-flying.

**Review and stuff are welcome. **


	2. Chapter 2

**1990**

The intense light was the first thing my body reacted to, the blinding, almost burning sensation behind my eyes, but it was not hot. This odd sensations alone lead me to believe I was not somewhere I knew. The thing that made me wake, however, was the noises surrounding me, almost encasing me; bouncing off walls, the volume increasing and decreasing without any form of emotive change.

That was two months ago

It was difficult to believe.

The war was over.

The man who had followed me onto the cliff was dead.

Hydra was extinct.

But I had survived.

No-one had explained to me _how_ I had survived. No-one had really explained anything, except that almost fifty years had passed since I jumped from the cliff, securing – what I had believed – to be my death. Yet, even though fifty years had passed, I had not aged one day, I had not even changed. I was told I should become accustomed to this, that it was possible, due to my heart being repeatedly stopped and started over a period of months while my body was repairing itself; it had somehow altered my molecular structure.

Again, I was not told why my heart had been through such bizarre behaviour and why I had not remembered it. I was doubtful as to whether I would ever find out why.

Momentarily, I was situated in the centre of my impeccably made bed, my legs drawn up underneath me, my eyes staring at the poster in my walls. The poster had remained the same since I had woken, but each time I scrutinised it, something different seemed to be revealed.

It was a piece of media used to try and accumulate me into this new culture, trying to make it easier before I was put in the real world.

The poster itself depicted the face of a white American; just the face. Covering the man's eyes and nose was an alloy type metal, painted a dark blue. A strip of black was situated upon the mask at the same height as to where the eyes would be. Behind the main face was a hazy looking sunset, only showing the colours of oranges and reds, but enough to give the implication of a sunset. At least, that's what I wanted to believe; it could easily be a fire. Along the bottom of the poster - overlapping the man's chin - were the words 'Robocop 2'.

Upon first seeing the poster, it had reminded me of the posters used to encourage the support of the war, only the picture was sharper, and depicted nothing but fiction. It was a cinema poster, such as I used to see, but it was spread around everywhere in the way the posters promoting war had been.

This was apparently what had become of the world, with movies ranking higher than troops overseas.

A knock resounded upon the door as it opened, with no pause between knocking and opening. Manners, it appeared, had also declined, no one having the time to wait for an answer. 'Ah, Siobhan. So nice to see you awake.' The voice was low and gravelly; old sounding. I did not need to look to see who it was, or to acknowledge his presence. I simply stayed staring at the poster. 'Have you had a chance to look through the material I provided?' the sweet, caring tone of the man's withering voice made me offer my attention, taking it away from the fascinating poster to look at him. At the providence of my attention, the man's wrinkled face broke into a smile, showing his yellowing teeth; rotten from the decades of smoking.

He truly was a fascinating man, continuously dressed in sharp, designer suits to hide his sickly frame. His hair was still a dark colour, a ghost of what it used to be, but nowhere near the shockingly silver colour of other men his age. He had, it was fair to say, strolled into seniority with an air of authority and grace.

'I watched all the videos, and listened to some music' I responded with a wrinkled nose. 'I have to say, I'm not a fan.' The man chuckled, staying stood by my door, as was habituated for him.

'No, I must say I agree. Nothing quite beats the music from back then.' I nodded, smiling warmly at him. I have taken a fondness to Howard Stark, now looking upon him as a form of fatherly figure. After all, he is the one who brought me here, and woken me correctly, providing me food and shelter whilst emerging me in to today's culture carefully.

It was surprisingly easy to catch up on the past half a century.

Some wars had happened, some famous leaders had died, and some bands had appeared and died out. I had managed to retain the most important information, and had come to grasp with the likes of televisions and some other wacky technology, not even dreamt of in my era. 'I am glad to hear, Siobhan.' I nodded, not really paying attention to him as my gaze wandered back to the poster. 'I have decided, as you have become familiarised to these changes in a rather unpredicted speed, you will come to live with myself and my family until I feel you are suitable to live in the real world.' I didn't argue his request, knowing it would not change his mind. I also knew that it was nothing to do with keeping me from having a culture shock.

His possessiveness over me stemmed from not wanting any other competitors to discover me, not wanting to let his most prized possession leave him. Realising this about him some weeks ago had made me sad. This man had a son, a whole empire that he had created. Yet, he wanted me, to keep me as his own, a treasured item that nobody could acquire.

Knowing I could not refuse his order, I simple nodded and smiled.

* * *

I had seen the Stark house a number of times before as part of Howard's emersion scheme. As he's house held the upmost technology, he had introduced me to it, spending days teaching me how it all worked; even the non-mainstream items. I could safely and securely say that I could use any item in the Stark house confidently.

My past was truly becoming just a distant memory. This was a terrifying feeling, one I did not want to allow to devour me. I wanted to continue holding to my past, to my friends and family. I knew most were still alive, if not having been killed by the war. However, I was under strict instructions not to contact any of them, as the stress or shock of seeing me could very well cause some to pass away.

This reason alone is what stopped me picking up the telephone and informing them of how alive I was.

'Marie' Howard's sharp tone jolted me back from my memories, seeing the grand pillars looming in front of me, the towering staircase glistening in marble as it ascended to the multiple floors. Marie was scurrying down the stairs, blowing her hair away from her face.

'Hello, Marie' I nodded, smiling timidly at the harassed woman in front of me. I had not come to terms with what to think of the woman yet. She was disrespectful to Howard, often arguing against his wishes, an alien concept to me. I suppose, although I had come to grasps with the changing technology, I had yet to accustom my behaviour to fit in with the modern female. The modern female was seen as an equal of man, no longer only seen as decoration, allowed to work and vote and pay taxes. This was a large thing to grasp my mind around.

'Hello, Siobhan. You look well' Marie's tone sounded strained, not looking at Howard, not looking at me. Her eyes were firmly placed on the floor. 'It's a pleasure to have you, your room is on the first floor, second on left.' I nodded, seeing the hint behind her words.

'I'll take my stuff upstairs –' I began, grasping my bags off from the tiled, to-beautiful flooring.

'No, let Marie grab those.' Howard instructed, swatting my hands away and causing me to drop the bags. Hesitating against my whim to obey, I agreed, nodding meekly and heading up the stairs.

I did not like the banister the cold, smooth feeling beneath it. It was a slimy feel, as though something alive were plastered to it. It did not feel as homely as wood. In fact, the whole house felt unlived in, as though it were simply for show.

The hallway in which my room was situated on was small, somethin which surprised me. I had no ventured to the living areas before, staying strictly to the technology sides of the house. I had expected, much like the rest of the house, for this hallway to be large and showy. In actuality, it only held three doors, and was rather box like.

Bags thudded down next to me, no words following them, simply the sound of retreating footsteps. Pondering whether to say something, I realised I had missed my opportunity when the sound of the door below me slamming resonated upstairs.

Feeling very out of place, I picked up my large black suitcase and retreated into my room.

The room was, to put it mildly, crammed with technology. Even things I did not know how to use tiled the walls, simply piled on top of each other. Howard seemed to give no care that most did not fit in the large room. He simply wanted to give me as much technological items as he possibly could. Wanting to cry at the disbandment of my former era, of Howard obvious attempt to chase the past away, I dumped my suitcase onto the floor and threw myself onto the bed.

Although I had come to terms with never being able to go back, having no time to grieve was making accepting it much harder.


	3. Chapter 3

**1991**

'Tony' my knuckles rapped on the door quietly, my body having been trained to ignored the sound of crashing and the heartbreaking screams emanating from Tony's room. As I knocked, the door swung open slightly, giving me the entrance I needed without intruding invasively. After all, the door was open. 'Tony' I raised my voice louder, avoiding the scattered remains that used to be Tony's inventions. Now, they were worthy of nothing more than the scrap yard.

Ducking quickly, I narrowly avoided being struck with the unidentifiable piece of electronics, hearing the door give crack under the force the object had gained. 'Tony!' I used a more forceful tone in my voice, straightening up and using my feet to simply push the ruined prizes out of my way as opposed to moving around them, my goal to reach Tony as quickly as possible, before he did any more damage to himself.

He was stood, momentarily, on his destroyed bed, parts of his engineering sprawled around him, used as weapons against his room. He was wearing the same outfit he had been two weeks ago, and it was now covered in dirt, grime and stuck repulsively. His face, too, was dirty, fingernail marks adorning his skin where he had clawed away in his frustration. His arms, though, were the worst, covered in deep gouges from his incessant picking and scratching, using his body as an object for his anger and grief to flow from. It was a distressing sight, one that made my heart bleed in sympathy.

Tony finally spotted me as I got within three feet of him, his expression swiftly changing from grief stricken, to furious and embarrassed. 'I told you not to come in here' he screamed, jumping down from his bed. His wild, tear streaked face was in front of mine in a second, our noses almost touching.

'You have to stop this, Tony' I kept my voice quiet, making myself continue to look at him, my own gaze not wavering from his eyes, not looking at his possibly-infected cuts. 'I know, I know you're grieving, but you have got to stop this self-destructive attitude. You have a company to run, and you have to make a decision soon as to what should happen with your parents bodies.' Tony stared at me, his mouth agape at my words.

Since knowing Tony for the past year, getting close to him and becoming friends, I had noticed the inability for people to say no to him, seeing how he always got his own way. It was not his fault; it was the charisma and charm that surrounded him, that oozed from him. He was never spoken down to, never told what to do unless it was by his father. 'I have been keeping the company running for the past two weeks, keeping the reporters at bay, giving out bogus stories about where you are, about who I am, but it has to stop at some point, Tony'

'Why!' he screamed, his face still inches from mine, his breath catching me in the back of the throat, making me want to gag. 'My parents are dead, Siobhan! Why should I do anything?' I took a step back as he took a step forward, simply to stop from falling over his dead electronics. 'I don't care what happens to their fucking bodies, I don't care about the fucking company' he voice was hoarse, the volume exceeding his body's ability to maintain it, simply croaking out his words.

Seeing it was hopeless to try and talk to him, persuade him into anything, I simply nodded and left, the grief inside Tony overflowing to my own consciousness, my eyes become unfocused with tears.

* * *

'How is he?' the gruff voice that met me as soon as I exited the room made me wince. Although Obadiah Stane was a long standing family member, since knowing him, since seeing how he runs the company, something about him seemed off. He was a large man, mostly muscle adorning his figure, barely a neck upon which his shaved, scarred face sat upon. He truly did look terrifying to anyone who did not know him. He looked terrifying to those who did, too.

'I don't think is going to pass quickly' I sighed, descending down the stairs, knowing I had to give a press conference soon, another lie about where Tony was, another date as to when he would be back. Stain had been helping me with all these releases, wanting to take over completely, to 'take the burden off me'. Somehow, that did not seem right.

Although I am not am blood relation to Howard, he treated me like a daughter, and i looked upon him like a father; I knew giving his company away would break his heart. That is the sole reason I am not giving the deeds to Obadiah and hitching my first ride out of here. 'No, no one can expect it to. He lost his parents, he needs time to grieve.' I nodded absentmindedly, grabbing the phone from the kitchen counter. It was the one piece of technology I felt truly impacted the modern people lives. It was a small, hand held device that allowed people to connect with other people around the world, simply by pressing a number of buttons. Howards own phone had been programmed with this 'to do list' that let me see everything I needed to do with the times and places.

I was aware of Obadiah following me around, wanting to say something, or wanting me to say something, his terse breath hitting the back of my neck and making me cringe. 'I do not think handing the company to you is a good idea, not until Tony has he's say' I pondered, checking the time to see that I had roughly an hour until my board meeting to discuss Tony's future in the company.

'Siobhan' Stane's voice held a patronising quality 'you don't know what is best for Tony, you're not even from this era' he laughed mockingly, making me expression darken.

'No, but I know what Howard wanted, what was best for him.' I retorted snappily 'Howard's dream was for this company to be led by Tony, which will happen when Tony has had the time to grieve' the muscle in Stane's jaw twitched, his large hands folding into fists.

'Tony will never be able to run this company! He has never wanted to, and never will want to. I am the executive now, I have the premise to say who the company goes to' he shouted, his face darkening to an unhealthy red, the veins in his non-existent neck pushing to the surface, looking ready to burst.

Feeling disadvantaged sat down, I stood up, the phone clasped in my hand inattentively. '_You _are not the executive, Stane, _I_ am. Howard signed it off to me three months ago, afraid some terrible thing like this may happen, _I_ make the decisions, and the company is staying in the Stark's name' I shouted, my voice raising loud enough to stop the thuds coming from Tony's room, making it apparent that they young, grief stricken man was listening. Obadiah took a step closer to me, so his chest was almost touching mine, towering over me.

'You are nothing, Siobhan, nobody is going to take you seriously. You are a young girl who Howard stupidly took in. You cannot keep this business forever.' He snarled 'and when you slip up, I'll be there to take it.' I clenched my jaw, desperately resisting the urge to punch him, or lash out.

'Well, you'll be waiting a very long time' Stane's hands clenched and unclenched, fighting the same emotion rampaging through my skull.

'What's going on?' Obadiah paused at Tony's hoarse voice, glaring down at me for a moment more, before relaxing his posture.

'Nothing, Tony. Just a friendly debate.' Tony looked towards me, waiting for my confirmative nod before shrugging and moving to the kitchen area. 'I'm going out, Siobhan.' Stane declared, a second before the door slammed. It was accustomed for each of us to declare if we were not going to be in the house, as so to know who was here to look after Tony.

It was strange that I never would have thought of squaring up to someone as high up on the social ladder as Stane in my old era, my old life, but did not give two thoughts about it when standing up for Tony's rights. My old life and beliefs truly were fading, changing into memories.

I suppose, this is what evolution is.

* * *

I could hear Tony ripping apart the kitchen, looking for some form of food that was, apparently, not there. When I heard the fourth plate smashing, I decided I should intervene. 'Tony, what are you looking for?' I kept my distance this time, standing by the doorway of the kitchen, a good six feet from Tony. The plate wedged in his hand became discarded while he rummaged through the fridge some more. 'Tony, tell me what you want, and I'll phone Stane and tell him to pick it up' I instructed.

Another plate hit the floor, smashing violently. 'Yes, because you and Stane care about me _so_ much' he screamed 'all you want is my father's company, it's all you ever wanted' I had heard this a lot from Tony since his parents death, convinced we were after the business, not Tony's welfare. I could not understand the paranoia Tony was feeling, that everyone around him was out to get him. But, looking at his disheveled frame, his grief stricken, mourning face, I knew I could not deny him anything that he wanted.

'Tony, the business is here whenever you want it. I won't try and take it away, and I will not hesitate to give it to you. I will just be around to make sure it runs smoothly.' I didn't see why I should bring Stane's own opinions into it, or wait until he was back to decide. No matter how much he beieved he was, Obadiah would never be the company's executive.

'Okay. I want it now' my eyebrow rose at Tony's demand, looking up and down his disgusting clothing, to his unwashed, matted hair, and shrugged.

'Okay. We have a press release in about two hours, following the board meeting I have to attend. I suggest you get changed and showered.' Tony looked shocked momentarily, staring at me, trying to gauge if I was serious. 'Come on. You can be slightly late, I'll feed them bullshit, but you will need to give a pre-prepared statement. You get showered, I'll write that up for you.' I was expecting some back chat, or scoffing. Instead, Tony disregarded his food hunting and nodded, almost running up the stairs.

Smiling to myself, I sat down to write his alibi, a headache forming behind my eyes.


	4. Chapter 4

**2009**

The room was darkened, twinkling lights devouring the room, giving an ambience of closeness and magic. The room only housed around 200 people, just enough for Tony's 'personal' friends, the board members and family members.

I was sat with Rhodey, a friend Tony had made in MIT, and one who had helped greatly with Tony's grieving; even after he accepted responsibility for the company. Rhodey was now in the RAF, the commander-in-chief, operating over the California sector, something I _knew_ Tony was exceedingly proud of, even if he did only rip him for it. 'Where is he?' Rhodey was the first to question Tony's lateness, leaning in so his mouth was almost touching my ear, as so not to draw attention to any of the officials.

I shrugged lightly 'I don't know, but he promised me he'd be here.' Rhodey sighed, ruffling my hair. He knew as well as I did that Tony rarely kept his promises nowadays.

'Yeah, sure' Rhodey muttered, leaning back into his seat as Obadiah made some spiel about Tony, laughing at his jokes as though him and Tony were best of friends. It was true that Stane cared about Tony, still offering with the company, giving his support with every decision Tony made and helping to push it through the Board. However, he was still very much involved for himself, hoping to inherit the business after Tony went; or fucked it up too much to be repaired.

I had not thought to tell Obadiah that Howard's contract from all those years ago still stood; after Tony fell, I inherited the business. This single thought is what stopped me blocking everything Stane tried to do. Whatever he did, I could undo later on.

Rhodey elbowed me sharply, forcing me to smile hurriedly as the spot lights fell on us, looking for Tony. Rhodey sighed lowly, forcing himself from his chair and heading to the stage to accept the award for Tony, shooting me a look instructing me to find him.

Waiting until the lights and attention was back on Rhodey, I slipped away, calmly walking from the glistening room, and into the air conditioned heat of the casino backing onto it, my black dress clinging to me in an unhealthy manner. Pulling out my phone, I found an email from the Board, asking for an explanation of Tony's behaviour. Blowing out a puff of air, I dialled the number, scanning the area of gamblers and alcoholics, looking for Tony.

'Siobhan, there had better be a good reason' the ageing, gravelly voice of Sir Hernestway greeted me.

'Sir, I can assure you that Tony had every intention of being there to accept his award, but was unfortunately delayed.' I knew, from many other phone calls, the brief, vague answers are what the Board wanted. They knew it was bull crap, I knew it was bull crap, but they needed something to feed the press.

The snort at the end of the line concreted their unbelief. 'Sure. Siobhan, you have to keep him in check, or I will pass the company to a more deserving member.'

'Sir, I feel I should not have to continuously remind you of Howard's wishes. After Tony's departure, I am to take the company' a wheezed chuckle made me frown

'That is what we mean, Siobhan. Give all rights to you.' I sighed lowly, spotting Tony's garish purple suit at the betting table.

'And I will decline until I feel Tony can no longer handle the responsibility. He missed one award, chill out.' I snapped, hanging up and pocketing my phone. Cheers erupted from Tony's table, making me roll my eyes, shoving into the group of onlookers, all hoping to gain some profit.

'Stark' Tony turned, grinning at my presence, his stupid red tinted sun glasses covering his tired, hung over eyes. I didn't bother trying to refrain his grabby hands, allowing him to pull me close to him, his arm clung around my waist.

'Ah, Siobhan, just the woman. Blow on these.' He held the dice out, making me raise an eyebrow 'go on, you're my good luck charm –' I batted the dice out of his hands, watching them tumble over the mat, before a groan erupted around us, Tony's three grand sliding away from him.

'Well, now that's done, you're coming with me.' I demanded, watching Rhodey approach to the other side, the award in his hand

'I told them if they honoured you, you'd be there' Rhodey shoved the award towards Tony, steering him away from the gaggle of females. Tony made some inaudible comment, before shoving his award into the hands of a pretty brunette, winking before he was carted away.

* * *

Once outside of the casino, Tony pulled away from us, walking on his own. His stride made Rhodey look at me, one eyebrow cocked in amusement. Whatever had caught Tony's eye deserved the strut usually withheld by the playboy for special occasions. Looking towards the car, i could understand why.

'Get in the car, Tony' I sighed, indicating to the new silver Audi situated on the curb, a busty blonde leaning against it, her lisp curved into a sultry smile.

'Do I get her?' I shrugged, feeling tired, uncaring. Truly, I was a product of the new technological age. 'Sweet' Tony hummed, parading over to the blonde as Rhodey held the door of his own luxury car open for me.

'Thanks, Rhode' he nodded, waving once to Tony who was already peeling away in his Audi. Clambering in, I leant against the plush leather seats, closing my eyes in hopes of banishing the migraine. I barely feeling the engine purr into life as Rhodey got in.

'You alright there, Shiv? You look a bit tired.' I shrugged

'Looking after Tony can take its toll' I answered warily, acutely aware that whatever I said could get back to Tony; or to Stane.

'Yes, he is lucky to have you though, Siobhan. He tells me all the time 'if not for Shiv, I wouldn't have this company'.' Rhodey snorted 'sometimes I think maybe you having the company is the best way.' Rhodey is one of the select people who know about the beginning, as he was around when I was managing the company, allowing Tony mishaps with Rhodey, picking up after his drunken nights. Others, however, simply believe I am a second intern like Pepper, hardly seeing me; and when they do simply believing I age exceedingly well.

'Howard wanted it for Tony. It is Tony until he fucks it up royally' I muttered, feeling my eyes grow heavily as my head lulled, sending me off to sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

**The chapters I have been posting a pre done on my laptop, so I may be going back to change them slightly. This one is also pre done, so may be changed later on.  
**

_The machines whirred around me, stacked in long lines in the warehouse, pumping whatever chemical they had created into the ecosystem. The Red Skull was next to me, his hands clasped behind his back as he looked upon his creation with wonder. His small, mouse looking assistant was the other side of me, holding my shackles timidly. 'Soon' the red skull sneered 'they're will be a race like yours.' His blackened eyes moved to look me over, a cruel, sadistic smile tracing his lips at the shackles binding me in tow. 'And it will be the glorious start.'  
His fist's pumped into the air, a chorus of 'Hail Hydra' thundering below him, hundreds of darkened, gloved hands reaching for the stars. _

* * *

I was not unaccustomed to being woken by Pepper; it was a rarity when she did not wake me. So, when the lights flashed above me, chasing the past away, I fought the instinct to strangle whoever it was, my conscious barely waking from the distant memories my mind had clung to 'Get up, Shiv. Press on line one, dry cleaning and sheets to be picked up, and Tony is in his workshop.' I nodded, mentally cataloging the list before burying my head back into my pillow, groaning.

Although I liked the life I had, I would not be adverse to any change of scenery. After all, I have only ever known the Stark Tower as home, only venturing out of business trips for Pepper. I did not get paid for my work, as everything I needed was included with Tony's needs, and seeing as I live with Tony, I need no rent money.

I often mused how nice it would be to live independently.

However, today would not that day. Today, I had to do the same old chores for the Playboy Philanthropist .

By the time I was showered and dressed, Pepper had collected the dry cleaning and dealt with the press. She was currently talking to whatever bar fly Tony had brought home yesterday, her voice smooth and kind, with only an undertone of irritation.

Leaving her to it, I exited my room out the back stairwell, leading down to the ground floor is which Tony's main work space stood, simply to avoid whatever drama the bar fly was attempting to cause. Some old, forgotten AC/DC record was blaring loud enough to rattle the marble stairs, making me ponder how Tony could possibly work with such noise. Still, whatever made him happy, I suppose.

Having learnt long ago not to knock, jut to enter, I punched in the four-digit code allowing me access, the music lowering to a pulsating thud down as I did. 'Don't turn my music down' Tony grunted, throwing a spanner to the floor, obviously and visibly frustrated with whatever he was working on.

'You have a plane to catch' Tony didn't respond, grabbing his welder and disregarding the use of a safety helmet. Refraining from saying anything 'parent' like, as Tony put it, I collected his empty coffee mug before it could fall and crack, narrowly missing colliding with Tony as he stood. 'Tony, plane' he offered silence once more, smirking.

'You're funny when you're annoyed' Over the years, Tony had become increasingly handsome, filling into his personality, as it were. He was a resound playboy from the age of around twenty two; after he realised he could leave the decisions of the company up to the Board, yet use the empire to get women. He resembled Howard's old photos, with his jaw line more defined, much like he's mother. It was his charm, however, which made it all near impossible to resist whatever he asks for.

Right now, he was trying to steer the conversation away from his duty at hand. 'I'm not annoyed Tony. I just don't want to explain why you're late. Again.' As always, Tony ignored my disapproving tone, grabbing the _Stark Industries _cup from my hand and moving to one of his many coffee machines.

'Then get Obadiah to explain.' I glowered at this suggestion, the clipboard containing my 'To Do' list becoming squashed tighter in my hand, parts of the wood scattering onto the ground. 'But, that what mean you talking to him' Tony popped some unidentifiable food into his mouth, leaving the coffee to brew while he strutted over to me, a mischievous smirk on his features. 'You two really have to put this feud behind you.'

'We don't have a feud, Mr Stark.' I sighed, having heard this line a lot from Tony. He had retained, in his mind, the stance that he had found Stane and I in the day he took over the company, and as he grew, realised it was not the friendly discussion Stane had made it out to be. Since comprehending this, Tony had been attempting to find out why, making quips and jabs about it whenever he could.

'Then get him to handle it' Throwing me his phone, Tony went back to whatever junk he was working on, still avoiding the safety helmets. Punching in Stane's number reluctantly, I waited for him to pick up, schooling my features into that of neutrality.

'Siobhan' Stane answered, his face visibly dropping when seeing it was I who was on the other line, as opposed to Stark. It was a simple video-chat device Tony had created, allowing for the speakers to see each other's reactions to the conversation. He said it made it more 'fun'.

'Tony is going to be late to the demonstration.'

'Why are you telling me?' Stane barked, looking quickly off to his side, obviously with someone. 'Deal with it yourself.' I pouted

'You're on the board, Stane, I am not his assistant, and I want you to do it.' Stane opened his mouth, his face flushing red as I disconnected, setting Tony's phone on the counter.

'No feud my ass' Tony muttered. 'Where's Pepper, anyway?' It was apparent that Tony had a crush on Virginia 'Pepper' Potts, his intern hired when he was twenty one; some fifteen years ago. He was just too stubborn to admit it.

'Dress shopping. She's going out tonight' my response was absentminded, something Tony picked up on, stopping whatever he was doing to face me.

'Why? What is up with you?'

'Her birthday, and nothing' I offered a quick smile, watching Tony scrutinise me before shrugging. Leaving him to his work, and knowing the bar fly was gone, I trudge back upstairs, slumping in the sofa, my head in my hands as I tried to battle the headache swimming behind me eyes.

Sometimes, I wish I were back in 1942, back in the safety of my room. At least the people chasing me back then had no technological advances to find me, as they do today.

Hindsight is a bitch.

**Shorter Chapter. Sorry.**


	6. Chapter 6

'…_Tony Stark, CEO of Stark Industries, is captured, presumed dead. Taken by hostile forces, there is no word yet of what they want from Mr Stark…' _Pepper turned the t.v. off, her eyes rimmed red once more.

She had been monitoring the reports for the past three months, hoping and praying to see that someone had some information on Tony's whereabouts. She had handed off all her duties onto me, knowing I could deal with Tony's disappearance better than she, seemingly because I had no strong feelings towards him like Pepper did. 'They're presuming him dead' Pepper croaked, turning her body into the ever welcoming arms of Happy, Tony's personal driver.

'You know the media, Pep, they blow everything out of proportion' Happy murmured, stroking the blondes hair soothingly, his arm clinging too tightly around her, his expression too excited for the reassuring moment he was having.

Much like Pepper's romantic interests toward Tony, Happy's own emotions were easily read.

My phone ringing shrilly made both parties stop their tender embrace to stare at me, holding their breaths as I picked the phone up from the coffee table close to my feet. 'Siobhan' Happy made a motion for me to put the call on loudspeaker; a motion he had been making each time I receive a phone call, no matter who from. Privacy was long gone in this house since Tony's disappearance, Pepper and Happy wanting to know every aspect of my life.

'Siobhan, it's Rhodey. We found him.' The crackled, distorted voice of the pilot made me believe he was in the desert Tony was believed to have been captured from.

'Is he there? Is he alright?' Tears began cascading from Pepper's voice at the pronoun I was using. Her hands moved shakily to cover her mouth, Happy still clinging to her.

The sound of dusty wind made me remove the phone temporarily from my ear, replacing it as the sound died down, transforming into a cranky, relieved speaker. 'I'm here, keep your wig on' Tony croaked. 'How's the business?'

'Just focus on getting home, Tony. We all love you, the business is fine.' Tony wheezed out a chuckle.

'See you soon, kid' the crackling resounded once more, before the line shorted out with a buzz, giving me no choice but to hang up.

'Is he okay?' Pepper cried, rushing from Happy's grasp, overlooking his glum face. 'Where is he?'

'I don't know, Pepper. The phone shorted out, but we should head to Tony's plane base, that is where they'll be landing.' Pepper didn't question my knowledge, simply grabbing the keys and progressing the fastest I have seen her move towards the town car.

* * *

Once at the base, a good few hundred reporters were already stationed. I was unsure as to whether this was a frequent thing for them, or if the news of Tony's safe return had been leaked by a soldier, or other personal. Whatever the reason, I knew I could not trust Pepper to take the lead in organising them. In the hysterical, almost drugged up state she was in, it was a wonder she could even stand. Which is why, once seeing the mass of reporters, I set up a perimeter as to where they could stand. 'If I could have your attention' I called, standing in the middle area in front of the reporters, my sunglasses perched on my face to hide my own red rimmed eyes. 'Mr Stark will be unable to take any questions on his arrival. If you can be patient, a press release will be held tomorrow afternoon.' Reporters began firing questions at me, too quick for me to comprehend, and thus allowing me to ignore them.

A few members of police took charge of keeping the reporters under check whilst I stood with Pepper, grasping her hand tightly as she attempted to calm herself down. 'He's gonna be okay, Pepper' Pepper nodded, her grip on my hand tightening as an RAF fighter jet came into view.

Behind me, reporters began going crazy, light bulbs flashing in my peripheral, police shouting at reporters to stay where they were. Happy joined Pepper at her other side, over looking the landing of the plane with an ecstatic expression, his large chins bouncing as he laughed, smiling with the enthusiasm of a small child on Christmas.

As the plane's ramp lowered, I watched four soldier's evacuate first, leading the way for Tony and ensuring no one got to close. Rhodey was easily taking all of Tony's weight, shaking slightly with the strain.

Letting go off Pepper's hand, I moved to help, unable to refrain from seeing the pale, clammy sheen covering Tony's face, the unfocused eyes and the shaking grip he held on Rhodey. 'Hey, boss. Good to see you' I murmured, placing my arm around his waist, careful not to jolt the sling his arm was currently situated in. Using a strength I reserve at all occasions, I allowed Rhodey to shift the supporting aspect to me.

'Glasses, Shiv? Not even that sunny' Tony murmured, his voice broken and hoarse.

'Have to hide my excitement some way, sir' Tony snorted, leaning into my body slightly, tired and weak and unable to support himself. I led him over to where Pepper was stood, prim and proper; the only sign of her emotion was the red rimming around her eyes.

Keeping my strength with Tony, I angled myself in front of him, hiding him from the onslaught of reporters eager to capture Tony at his weakest. Scanning the area, I felt my blood heat at the one, lone figure stood out of the reporter's attention span.

Dressed in a black trench coat to extenuate his shaven head, his arms folded behind his back and his ever-present eye patch becoming a motif for me. I knew his lackey would be somewhere nearby.

'Rhodey, are you okay dealing with the press?' Rhodey's responding look offered the question as to what could be more imprtant than helping Tony 'I have to deal with some people' I offered, already detaching myself from Tony's grip. Sighing softly, Rhodey nodded, regaining Tony's weight and allowing me to remove myself.

As I was attempting to subtly excuse myself from the mob, a large, beefy hand grasped my wrist, stopping any forethought plans of leaving. 'Where are you going' Stane's graveled, smoky voice made my face contort into disgust; a regular occurrence when around the man. 'Tony needs someone to manage to press release.'

'Then you do it, Obadiah' the increasing pressure on my wrists perfectly allowed me to gauge Stane's feelings towards this suggestion. It was, obviously, something he did not want to do. Facing off with Stane is never a pleasant experience, but I was unwilling to admit defeat, deciding it would be best for myself to simply deal with the repercussions later.

Ripping my wrist from Stane's grip with ease, I stalked towards the man in black, almost feeling the anger exuding from Obadiah the further I got from him.


	7. Chapter 7

The small diner sat off route 51, unrecognisable as an establishment unless the area is well known to the individual. Perhaps three other people sat in the restaurant with black-trench-coat man's lackey and myself; not including black-trench-coat-man. It was unclear to me whether the three other people were under-cover agents working for black-trench-coat man, or just sad, lonely men with nothing better to do then drown their sorrows in the 'heart attack hamburger's' they were devouring.

Removing my attention away from the possible agents, I studied the lackey situated on the red plastic seat across from me.

He was the same man from the casino and the same man who had been hounding me for weeks, appearing in other aspects of my life when recalling them, even simple things like grocery shopping; he was there. It was fair to say, he was the least intimidating man I had ever laid eyes on; even less intimidating than Red Skull's mouse man. That, in itself, deserved a pat on the back, and explained my total overlook of him. He did not stand out at all.

He was of short stature, maybe 5'6, dressed in the same spotless suit I always seemed to see him in. I could only imagine it concealed his underlying muscular frame to give the appearance of non-threatening party. His hair was receding, giving show to his perpetually happy face; always smiling at something. It was growing increasingly irritating the more I watched it.

I regretted following him into the black SUV almost immediately, on the premise of his expression alone. But, the weeks of relentless hounding was the sole validation as to why I was still sited on the bent plastic chair, a cup of untouched, cooling coffee in the table. 'Why am I here?' we had been sat in silence for seven minutes, listening to the soft rumble of the local radio, as opposed to discussing whatever issue he and black-trench-coat-man had.

Upon my words, Smiley-McGee turned his body towards me, giving me his full, undivided attention. 'I am here about you, Miss… Siobhan' his stuttering over my name pondered just how much he and his superior knew about me; they hadn't even been able to discover my last name. 'My superior back at the Strategic Homeland –'

'Yeah, the long name place. What about him? Where is he, anyway?' He had not followed us to the diner, simply observing _me_ going to the diner.

'He has other matters to attend to' the man answered vaguely. 'He has been watching you for a while, and believes you would make an excellent candidate to a program he is initialising. Of course, it is all in the beta stages right now, but he needs the co-operation of a select few. He believes that you are one of them.' And I believed my face resembled one of a surprised goat as I processed the words. The noise that was emitted from my mouth, to, resembled a surprised goat. 'If you could clear some time to come along to our facility, we can explain more.' I took the card being extended towards me, pocketing it with a nod.

Once his hands were freed up, Smiley-McGee reached onto the seat next to him, placing a small stack of files onto the table and sliding them over to me. 'If you could read through these, it may explain more of what we do.' Not wanting to refuse such mysterious looking files, I placed them carefully in my bag, seeing the agent was no longer seated. 'I will take you back to the Tower, now.'


End file.
